How I got the car

I'm going to try and get caught up on my saab blogs. I have about 20 years of catching up to do, and no one is going to be interested. The story starts when I was 8 years old. My dad came home wrapped in a itty bitty, baby blue two door, some kinda, what the hell is that car. I wish I could remember my mom's face, but I get the impression that at this point she was getting used to this sort of thing. At anyrate, this is about what it looked like:






OK, well, this is a much later picture, but you get the idea. Many of you have no idea what this thing ever looked like...poor car. It was a Detroit car and the rockers and floor were already rotted out. (let's see, the car was about 9 years old at that point) My dad took it apart, with pieces in the basement and he car parked sideways in the back of the garage. He sent the engine off and messed around with the brakes and clutch. He patched the holes with what appears to be roofing tin, rivets, some sheet metal, fiberglass and bondo. I can't complain i guess, it kept my feet dry for 10 years of driving. I still don't know how he had the time to even get done what he did with him working so much. What I do wish is that I had paid more attention...I'm paying for that now.I do remember when he got the car back together (or was it before?) He took the whole family out on a drive...now, this is a two door car with the gas tank mounted 4 inches behind the non-reclining seats. My dad drove and me (8ish) my sister (5ish) and mom were all in the passenger seat. HEHEHE, i bet I'd be pulled over and beaten by the cops if I tried that stunt today. That's pretty much my only memories of the car for about 5 years. I wish I could blame my horrid memory on large quantities of alchohol and weed, but neither apply. I can only assume that my parents horribly beat me during this period of time.